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<title>The Art of Loving You by CominUnderFire</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038798">The Art of Loving You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CominUnderFire/pseuds/CominUnderFire'>CominUnderFire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Def Leppard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Artist Joe Elliott, M/M, Scientist Rick Savage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:20:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CominUnderFire/pseuds/CominUnderFire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I know about painting, literature, and music but there is an art that I haven't mastered yet and that is loving you</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe Elliott/Rick Savage, Steve Clark/Phil Collen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Art of Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The brush was moving swiftly across the canvas, drawing lines here and there.</p><p>The blond raised his head and moved away a few inches so he could properly contemplate his work. He frowned with disgust before putting the canvas aside, in a pile with all the other failed attempts, and quickly taking a new blank one to restart the process.</p><p>Joseph Elliott, 32. Probably the most frustrated artist you'll ever meet. Good at all arts you can think of but without inspiration to create in any of them. Lack of creativity? Nope, there was plenty of that. The ideas where there and they were good, his actual problem was that he couldn't find their right order when he wanted to express them out. It was like something was missing and not knowing what it was frustrated him even more.</p><p>Leaving his inspiration issues aside, although, as I said, there wasn't any art skill he lacked of talent for, his main fixation had always been painting. It was something he spent most of his time on, something he could be doing non-stop for hours or even days, something he almost live for.</p><p>His obsesion was such that he practically lived self-insolated in his studio, deprived from all human contact, which explained why his circle of friends started and ended in Steve Clark, his roommate and manager, also know as the only person capable of putting up with Elliott's eccentric persona.</p><p>Steve was the person to whom, in part, Joe owed everything he had, since he was the one who had managed to turn his biggest passion into his work by getting him a contract with a well-known art gallery.</p><p>-<em>Stephen, I </em><em>have</em> <em>already</em> <em>told</em> <em>you</em> <em>this</em><em> a </em><em>thousand</em><em> times: </em><em>There</em><em> are </em><em>things</em><em> I </em><em>can't</em><em> speed up, </em><em>and</em> <em>my</em><em> creative </em><em>process</em> <em>is</em> <em>one</em><em>!</em> -the blond exclaimed, looking at his friend from the corner of his eye while he moved away to see how this new attempt was going, discarding the canvas again.</p><p>Clark just observed him from the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a peaceful expression on his face. Peace of mind and patience were the only weapons he had to deal with Joe without getting despair.</p><p>-<em>I </em><em>know</em><em>, I </em><em>know</em><em>. </em><em>But</em> <em>they</em><em> are </em><em>orders</em> <em>from</em> <em>above</em><em> -</em>Clark answered in a calmed tone- <em>The</em><em> guys </em><em>from</em> <em>the</em> <em>gallery</em> <em>keep</em><em> on </em><em>pressing</em> <em>to</em> <em>know</em> <em>when</em> <em>they</em><em> will </em><em>have</em> <em>new</em> <em>works</em> <em>of</em> <em>yours</em><em>, </em><em>they</em><em> are </em><em>eager</em> <em>to</em> <em>make</em><em> a </em><em>new</em> <em>exhibition</em> <em>of</em> <em>your</em> <em>work</em><em>.</em></p><p>-<em>The</em> <em>painting</em><em> will be </em><em>ready</em> <em>when</em><em> I </em><em>finish</em><em>, 'kay?</em> -Elliott snapped as his only answer, trying to concentrate back in his painting.</p><p>
  <em>-I </em>
  <em>know</em>
  <em>, </em>
  <em>but</em>
  <em>... </em>
</p><p><em>-</em><em>But</em> <em>nothing</em> -the blond interrupted-<em> I paint </em><em>because</em><em> I </em><em>want</em><em>, </em><em>not</em> <em>because</em><em> a </em><em>bunch</em> <em>of</em> <em>idiots</em><em>, </em><em>that</em> <em>the</em> <em>only</em> <em>thing</em> <em>they</em> <em>care</em> <em>about</em> <em>of</em><em> me </em><em>is</em> <em>the</em> <em>amount</em> <em>of</em> <em>money</em> <em>I'm</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em><em> made </em><em>them</em> <em>earn</em><em>, </em><em>ask</em><em> me </em><em>too</em><em> -</em>he spit angrily- <em>The</em> <em>don't</em> <em>have</em><em> a fucking </em><em>clue</em> <em>what</em> <em>is</em> <em>to</em><em> be </em><em>an</em> <em>artist</em><em>. </em></p><p><em>-Okay, as </em><em>you</em> <em>say</em><em>, </em><em>but</em> <em>I've</em> <em>been</em> <em>arguing</em> <em>with</em> <em>them</em> <em>for</em> <em>the</em> <em>last</em> <em>two</em> <em>weeks</em> <em>and</em> <em>they</em> <em>say</em> <em>that</em> <em>unless</em> <em>you</em> <em>have</em> <em>something</em> <em>for</em> <em>them</em> <em>by</em> <em>the</em><em> 25th </em><em>of</em> <em>this</em> <em>month</em><em>, </em><em>you</em><em> can </em><em>say</em><em> goodbye </em><em>to</em> <em>your</em> <em>contrac</em>t -Steve explained.</p><p>-<em>Then</em><em>, fuck </em><em>them</em><em>!</em> -Joe exclaimed- <em>I </em><em>don't</em> <em>need</em> <em>them</em><em>. </em><em>They</em> <em>need</em><em> me! </em><em>Without</em><em> me </em><em>their</em> <em>damn</em> <em>gallery</em><em> will </em><em>go</em> <em>down</em> <em>the</em> <em>drain</em><em>.</em></p><p>Clark sighed trying not to loose his patience. Arguing with Joe was worse than hell.</p><p>-<em>Joe, </em><em>make</em><em> me a </em><em>favour</em> <em>and</em> <em>lower</em> <em>you</em><em> ego </em><em>here</em> <em>for</em><em> a </em><em>moment</em><em>, </em><em>we</em> <em>need</em> <em>to</em><em> talk -</em>Steve said- <em>I </em><em>know</em> <em>you</em> <em>don't</em> <em>need</em> <em>anybody</em> <em>to</em> <em>promote</em> <em>you</em> <em>glorious</em> <em>works</em> -he said with notable irony- <em>But</em> <em>I'll</em> <em>remember</em> <em>you</em> <em>that</em> <em>here</em> <em>in</em> <em>the</em><em> real world, </em><em>where</em> <em>you</em> <em>belong</em> <em>to</em> <em>either</em> <em>you</em><em> like it </em><em>or</em> <em>not</em><em>, </em><em>you</em> <em>have</em> <em>to</em> <em>pay</em> <em>rents</em> <em>and</em> <em>bills</em> <em>and</em> <em>stuff</em> <em>and</em> <em>money</em><em> will </em><em>not</em> <em>magically</em> <em>appear</em> <em>in</em> <em>your</em> <em>account</em><em> if </em><em>you</em><em> do </em><em>not</em> <em>work</em><em>.</em></p><p>Joe grunted, not even turning to face his friend. He hated when Steve treated him like a child and hated even more having to admit he was right, but he was.</p><p>-<em>Honestly</em><em>, being </em><em>you</em><em>, </em><em>you</em> <em>could</em> <em>even</em> <em>give</em> <em>them</em><em> a </em><em>blank</em><em> canvas, </em><em>that</em><em> if </em><em>you</em> <em>give</em><em> it a good </em><em>name</em> <em>they</em><em> will </em><em>buy</em><em> it</em> -Steve said looking at the multiple canvases that were scattered around the room.</p><p><em>-</em><em>I'm</em> <em>serious</em><em>, Clark</em></p><p><em>-I </em><em>know</em> -the younger answered- <em>You</em> <em>yourself</em> <em>said</em> <em>that</em> <em>you</em> <em>didn't</em> <em>care</em><em>, </em><em>just</em> <em>give</em> <em>the</em> <em>anything</em><em>, </em><em>to</em> <em>keep</em> <em>them</em> <em>content</em><em>. </em><em>While</em> <em>they</em><em> are </em><em>not</em> <em>complaining</em><em>, </em><em>you</em><em> can do </em><em>whatever</em> <em>you</em> <em>want</em><em>. </em></p><p>Joe snorted, swallowing his pride for once to admit his friend was right.</p><p>-<em>Okay!</em> -he finaly gave in- <em>I'll</em> <em>try</em><em>, </em><em>I'll</em> <em>try</em> <em>to</em> <em>have</em> <em>something</em><em> finished, </em><em>whatever</em><em>, </em><em>for</em> <em>the</em><em> 25th</em></p><p>Steve smiled, happy of having made his friend come to reason.</p><p>-<em>But</em><em> I </em><em>only</em><em> do it </em><em>because</em><em> I </em><em>want</em> <em>to</em><em>! </em></p><p>Well, more or less.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Rainbow in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-<em>See</em> <em>how</em><em> it </em><em>wasn't</em> <em>that</em> <em>complicated</em> -Steve said, looking at the exhibition room, which was completely overflowing- <em>The</em> <em>gallery</em> <em>is</em> <em>delighted</em> <em>with</em> <em>your</em> <em>new</em> <em>work</em><em>.</em></p>
<p>-<em>It's</em><em> shit, Steve, </em><em>this</em> <em>sucks</em> -the blond said, crossing his arms- <em>This</em> <em>is</em> <em>the</em> <em>worst</em> <em>thing</em> <em>I've</em> <em>ever</em><em> done </em><em>in</em> <em>my</em><em> life. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Yes, </em><em>but</em> <em>it's</em><em> shit </em><em>that</em> <em>they</em> <em>liked</em> <em>and</em><em>that</em><em>they're</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em> <em>pay</em> <em>you</em> <em>money</em> <em>for</em><em>, </em><em>and</em> <em>that's</em> <em>what</em> <em>matters</em><em>. Like it </em><em>or</em> <em>not</em><em>, </em><em>that's</em> <em>how</em> <em>this</em><em> world </em><em>works</em><em>! </em>-Clark exclaimed.</p>
<p>Joe rolled his eyes at his friend's comment, true though it was, deciding to go for a walk around the gallery and, on the way, see how people were reacting to his new paintings.</p>
<p>-<em>An</em> <em>interesting</em> <em>work</em><em>, </em><em>isn't</em><em> it?</em> -he asked, standing next to a man who had been contemplating his works for a while.</p>
<p>He was a young man of about his age, perhaps a little younger, with brown hair in the shape of small ringlets and, now that he was closer, he could tell that he had blue eyes. The lad was undeniably handsome. Perhaps this was what led him to the decision to approach him among all the people in the gallery.</p>
<p>The man was a little startled to see Joe there, taking a quick look at the painting in front of him before answering.</p>
<p>
  <em>-Yes, </em>
  <em>well</em>
  <em>... </em>
</p>
<p>-<em>Well</em><em>, </em><em>what</em><em>?</em> -asked Elliott curiously.</p>
<p>-<em>Don't</em> <em>tell</em> <em>anyone</em> <em>but</em><em>... </em><em>This</em> <em>is</em> <em>certainly</em><em> horrible </em>-he admitted-<em> I </em><em>had</em> <em>been</em> <em>told</em> <em>that</em> <em>this</em> <em>artist</em> <em>had</em> <em>great</em> <em>potential</em><em>, </em><em>but</em> <em>this</em><em>... </em><em>This</em> <em>just</em><em> no. </em><em>It's</em><em> like... </em><em>S</em><em>omething</em> <em>is</em> <em>missing</em><em>. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Well</em><em>, </em><em>maybe</em> <em>you</em> <em>picked</em> <em>the</em> <em>wrong</em> <em>person</em><em> if </em><em>you</em> <em>wanted</em> <em>your</em> <em>opinion</em> <em>to</em><em> be </em><em>secret</em> -said Joe chuckled. The man looked at him confused- <em>I </em><em>am</em> <em>the</em> <em>artist</em> -he confessed.</p>
<p>The curly turned to him, looking surprised. His cheeks flushed and he looked away embarrassed at his mistake.</p>
<p>-<em>Uh... I... </em><em>I'm</em> <em>sorry</em><em>. I </em><em>didn't</em><em> mean it </em><em>was</em> <em>bad</em> <em>just</em><em>... I </em><em>probably</em> <em>just</em> <em>don't</em> <em>appreciate</em><em> it, </em><em>I'm</em> <em>not</em> <em>an</em> <em>art</em> <em>expert</em><em>, </em><em>you</em> <em>know</em><em>?</em> -he quickly excused himself.</p>
<p>-<em>Don't</em> <em>apologize</em><em>, I </em><em>think</em> <em>they're</em><em> horrible </em><em>too</em> -said Elliott, surprising the curly- <em>Musicians</em> <em>sometimes</em> <em>release</em> <em>songs</em> <em>they</em> <em>hate</em> <em>to</em> <em>please</em> <em>the</em> <em>mainstream</em> <em>public</em><em>, </em><em>and</em> <em>painters</em><em> are no </em><em>different</em><em>. </em><em>Not</em> <em>everything</em><em> I do has </em><em>to</em><em> be a </em><em>masterpiece</em><em>, I guess </em>-he sighed.</p>
<p>-<em>Don't</em><em> be </em><em>that</em> <em>disapointed</em><em>, </em><em>you</em><em> can </em><em>at</em> <em>least</em> <em>allow</em> <em>yourself</em> <em>to</em> <em>have</em> <em>failures</em> <em>at</em> <em>your</em> <em>work</em> -he said trying to encourage Joe.</p>
<p>Joe looked at him with curiosity.</p>
<p>-<em>What</em><em> do </em><em>you</em><em> do? </em></p>
<p>-<em>It's</em><em> a bit </em><em>complex</em> <em>to</em> <em>explain</em><em>, </em><em>but</em> <em>let's</em> <em>say</em> <em>the</em> <em>opposite</em> <em>of</em> <em>what</em> <em>you</em><em> do</em> -he said-<em> I </em><em>work</em> <em>in</em><em> a </em><em>laboratory</em><em>. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Uh, I </em><em>certainly</em> <em>wouldn't</em> <em>want</em> <em>to</em><em> be </em><em>in</em> <em>your</em> <em>shoes</em> <em>in</em><em> case </em><em>of</em><em> a </em><em>mistake</em><em>, </em><em>especially</em><em> being as </em><em>clumsy</em><em> as I </em><em>am</em>-Joe said- <em>One</em><em> day </em><em>at</em> <em>your</em><em> job </em><em>and</em> <em>I'd</em><em> cause </em><em>Armageddon</em></p>
<p>The curly giggled at this comment. His smile was something that Joe found really cute.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>know</em><em>, </em><em>with</em> <em>the</em> <em>things</em> <em>I've</em><em> heard </em><em>about</em> <em>you</em><em>, I </em><em>didn't</em> <em>exactly</em> <em>picture</em> <em>you</em> <em>this</em> <em>way</em> -said the curly.</p>
<p>It wasn't strange for him to hear that, people didn't used to know much about him. That was because, from the beginning of his career, Joe had decided to remain as anonymous as possible, he just didn't like being a public figure or the life of fame itself, that wasn't for him.</p>
<p>-<em>And</em> <em>tell</em><em> me... </em><em>Have</em><em> I </em><em>impressed</em> <em>you</em> <em>for</em> <em>better</em> <em>or</em> <em>worse</em><em>?</em> -he asked. At no time he had considered flirting with the man, but that was the tone of the conversation.</p>
<p>-<em>For</em> <em>better</em><em>, </em><em>of</em> <em>course</em> -he answered. No doubt he was playing along.</p>
<p>Joe smiled.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>know</em><em>? I </em><em>was</em> <em>having</em><em> a </em><em>bad</em><em> day, </em><em>but</em><em> I </em><em>think</em> <em>you</em><em> made it </em><em>better</em> -Elliott said almost without thinking.</p>
<p><em>-I </em><em>didn't</em><em> do </em><em>anything</em> -the younger one said, blushing at the comment.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>think</em> <em>you</em> <em>didn't</em><em>? </em><em>You've</em> <em>been</em> <em>honest</em> <em>with</em><em> me </em><em>and</em><em> made me </em><em>forget</em> <em>for</em><em> a </em><em>moment</em> <em>how</em> <em>much</em><em> I </em><em>hate</em> <em>this</em><em> place</em> -the blond said.</p>
<p>-<em>Well</em><em>, if </em><em>that's</em> <em>the</em> <em>problem</em><em>, </em><em>then</em>, <em>yes</em>, <em>I guess </em><em>I'm</em> <em>here</em> <em>to</em> <em>make</em> <em>your</em><em> day</em> -he said.</p>
<p>Joe just gave him a confused look, not quite understanding what he meant.</p>
<p>-<em>The</em> <em>truth</em> <em>is</em> <em>that</em><em>, as I </em><em>said</em><em>, </em><em>I'm</em> <em>not</em> <em>exactly</em> <em>an</em> <em>art</em> <em>expert</em> -confessed the curly- <em>Rather</em><em>, I </em><em>came</em><em> as a </em><em>favour</em> <em>to</em><em> a friend who it </em><em>is</em> -Joe looked at him curiously as the boy took a card out of his trousers' pocket- <em>That</em><em> friend </em><em>in</em><em> question </em><em>happens</em> <em>to</em><em> be </em><em>the</em> <em>owner</em> <em>of</em><em> a </em><em>well</em><em>-</em><em>known</em> <em>gallery</em><em> downtown </em><em>and</em> <em>is</em> <em>interested</em> <em>in</em> <em>your</em> <em>work</em> -he said after giving the card to the blond- <em>I </em><em>don't</em> <em>think</em><em> he has </em><em>too</em> <em>much</em><em> hope </em><em>that</em> <em>you</em> <em>would</em><em> accept, </em><em>but</em><em> if, as </em><em>you</em> <em>said</em><em>, </em><em>you</em> <em>have</em> <em>problems</em> <em>here</em><em>, </em><em>you</em><em> can </em><em>give</em><em> it a chance. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Well</em><em>, </em><em>for</em> <em>you</em><em>, </em><em>I'll</em> <em>think</em> <em>about</em><em> it. I </em><em>could</em><em> use a </em><em>change</em> <em>after</em> <em>all</em> -he smiled.</p>
<p>The curly smiled back, happy that the little task he had been given had not only not annoyed the blond, but had even been good for him. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall, checking the time, before returning his attention to Joe.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>know</em><em>, </em><em>I'd</em> <em>really</em> <em>love</em> <em>to</em> <em>stay</em> <em>here</em> <em>talking</em> <em>to</em> <em>you</em><em>, </em><em>but</em><em> I </em><em>should</em> <em>go</em> <em>now</em> <em>or</em> <em>I'm</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em><em> be late </em><em>for</em> <em>work</em> -he said- <em>I </em><em>promise</em> <em>you</em> <em>that</em><em> if </em><em>we</em> <em>meet</em><em> again it will be </em><em>with</em> <em>less</em> <em>hurry</em> -he said as a goodbye.</p>
<p>-<em>I hope so</em> -whispered Elliott. He really wanted to see him again.</p>
<p>And this kind of feelings wasn't normal for the blond. In general, he wasn't a sociable person, he didn't especially like people, and less if they were strangers, that was another reason why Steve was his only friend, but that boy... That boy had captivated him from the very first moment.</p>
<p>Joe bit his lower lip watching that still unknown man get lost in the crowd. Then, once he was out of sight, Elliott looked down at the card in his hands. A change of scenery was really something he needed, perhaps somewhere else they would understand him better.</p>
<p>-<em>All</em><em> right, Joseph</em> -said Steve, arriving from nowhere- <em>I'm</em> <em>doing</em> <em>the</em> <em>dirty</em> <em>work</em> <em>while</em> <em>you're</em> <em>here</em><em>, </em><em>flirting</em><em>. </em></p>
<p>-<em>I </em><em>wasn't</em> <em>flirting</em><em>. </em><em>In</em> <em>fact</em><em> I </em><em>was</em> <em>doing</em> <em>something</em> <em>useful</em><em>! </em>-he said, handing him the card.</p>
<p>Steve looked at him suspiciously.</p>
<p>-<em>Whatever</em> <em>you</em> <em>say</em><em>, </em><em>but</em> <em>that</em><em> dude </em><em>doesn't</em> <em>work</em> <em>for</em> <em>any</em> <em>gallery</em> -Clark said.</p>
<p>Joe felt the urge to ask if his friend knew the curly but decided not to.</p>
<p>-<em>I </em><em>know</em><em>. He </em><em>told</em><em> me </em>-Joe explained- <em>But</em><em> he </em><em>also</em> <em>told</em><em> me </em><em>that</em><em> he </em><em>came</em> <em>here</em> <em>because</em> <em>the</em><em> real </em><em>gallery</em> <em>owner</em> <em>couldn't</em><em>. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Okay, </em><em>I'll</em> <em>believe</em> <em>you</em> <em>for</em><em> once </em><em>and</em><em> it </em><em>better</em><em> be </em><em>true</em> -Clark said, holding the card.</p>
<p>-<em>Whatever</em><em>, </em><em>but</em> <em>now</em><em>, </em><em>c'mon</em><em>, </em><em>let's</em> <em>get</em> <em>out</em> <em>of</em> <em>here</em> <em>already</em> -Elliott said as he started to walk to the exit.</p>
<p>Steve just followed his friend.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>didn't</em> <em>seem</em> <em>to</em><em> be </em><em>in</em> <em>such</em><em> a </em><em>hurry</em><em> a </em><em>while</em> <em>ago</em><em>, </em><em>did</em> <em>you</em><em>?</em> -Clark laughed.</p>
<p>Clearly his friend had something going on with that guy, and he was sure that whatever it was, it wouldn't hurt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wings of an Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe came out of his room looking like he hadn't slept in a week, grunting in annoyance as the morning light attacked his eyes, already accustomed to the poor lighting of his room.</p>
<p>He didn't know when it got light, he didn't even know how many hours he had spent locked up in there exactly. He had been up all night painting, feeling inspiration flow for the first time in a long time.</p>
<p>But the time sacrificed didn't matter; he had finally managed to finish a painting, one with which he felt truly satisfied.</p>
<p>Paints of different colors covered his messy clothes, his hands, and even his face.</p>
<p>From the stains one could tell that Joe's new favorite shade was blue, but not just any blue, he had found a color that was almost identical to that of that lad's eyes, a recursive image in his mind that night.</p>
<p>For some reason, every time a memory of that curly haired boy appeared in his mind, a tide of ideas would follow it, almost automatically being captured on the fabric of the canvas.</p>
<p>He felt like he had been touched by the wings of an angel, an angel with curls and blue eyes.</p>
<p>God, now he was more and more sure that that lad had been sent to help him by the muses themselves.</p>
<p>If he already wanted to see him again, now he needed him urgently. Joe felt that he had finally found that something that was missing and that something had a name and a surname, although he didn't know yet what they were.</p>
<p>Joe walked into the kitchen, being welcomed by Clark, who was there, leaning on the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands.</p>
<p>-<em>Looking</em><em> good, </em><em>huh</em><em>?</em> -Steve said with clear irony when he saw Joe's state.</p>
<p>Joe just rolled his eyes in response. It was too early and he was too tired to take his friend's funny remarks.</p>
<p>-<em>Now</em> <em>seriously</em><em>, </em><em>how</em> <em>much</em> <em>sleep</em> <em>have</em> <em>you</em> <em>had</em> <em>today</em><em>? </em><em>Or</em> <em>rather</em><em>, </em><em>did</em> <em>you</em> <em>get</em> <em>any</em> <em>sleep</em> <em>at</em> <em>all</em><em>?</em> -asked the younger one.</p>
<p>-<em>A </em><em>little</em><em>, I </em><em>don't</em> <em>know</em><em>, like </em><em>five</em><em>? </em>-said Joe, sitting in one of the chairs and resting his arms and head on the table, completely exhausted.</p>
<p>
  <em>-</em>
  <em>Hours</em>
  <em>? </em>
</p>
<p>-<em>Minutes </em>-Elliott answered- <em>Don't</em><em> look </em><em>at</em><em> me like </em><em>that</em><em>, Steve, I </em><em>was</em> <em>inspired</em><em>!</em> -he exclaimed at his friend's disapproving expression.</p>
<p>-<em>Okay, </em><em>you're</em><em> a big boy </em><em>and</em> <em>you</em> <em>know</em> <em>what</em> <em>you</em><em> do, </em><em>but</em><em> a </em><em>little</em><em> extra </em><em>sleep</em><em> once </em><em>in</em><em> a </em><em>while</em> <em>wouldn't</em> <em>hurt</em> -Clark said, sipping his coffee. He didn't feel like arguing with Joe, but sometimes he couldn't help but worry about him. This wasn't the first time that his obsession had lead him into unhealthy habits</p>
<p>Elliott looked up, landing it on his friend for the first time since he had entered the room.</p>
<p><em>-</em><em>Where</em><em> are </em><em>you</em> <em>going</em> <em>at</em> <em>this</em> <em>hour</em><em>? </em>-asked Joe, noticing that Steve was already completely dressed up.</p>
<p>-<em>To</em> <em>the</em> <em>gallery</em> <em>that</em>, <em>according</em> <em>to</em> <em>Sav</em>, <em>is</em> <em>interested</em> <em>in</em> <em>you</em> - Steve explained.</p>
<p>-<em>According</em> <em>to</em> <em>whom</em><em>? </em></p>
<p>-<em>Sav</em><em>, </em><em>the</em><em> guy who </em><em>gave</em> <em>you</em> <em>the</em> <em>card</em> -Clark said. Hearing that, Joe seemed to suddenly come completely awake.</p>
<p>-<em>Oh, </em><em>you</em> <em>know</em> <em>him</em><em>?</em> -Joe asked, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.</p>
<p>-<em>Yep</em><em>, </em><em>we</em> <em>went</em> <em>to</em><em> uni </em><em>together</em> -Steve said- <em>That's</em> <em>why</em><em> I </em><em>know</em><em> he </em><em>doesn't</em> <em>work</em> <em>for</em> <em>the</em> <em>gallery</em><em>. </em><em>Art</em> <em>had</em> <em>never</em> <em>been</em> <em>his</em> <em>main</em> <em>interest</em><em>, </em><em>he's</em> <em>always</em> <em>been</em><em> a </em><em>textbook</em> <em>example</em> <em>of</em><em> a </em><em>geek</em> -he explained- <em>And</em> <em>now</em><em>, if </em><em>you'll</em><em> excuse me, I </em><em>have</em> <em>to</em> <em>go</em> <em>or</em> <em>I'm</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em><em> be late -</em>he said, checking the clock, then grabbing his things and leaving the kitchen, leaving Joe there alone and lost once more in his thoughts and memories of that curly boy.</p>
<p>Now he had a little more information, his name or at least part of it. 'Sav' didn't sound like his real name.</p>
<p>Returning to the real world, Joe looked around, noticing a certain object laying on the counter: Steve's address book.</p>
<p>As he looked at it, an idea popped into his mind. If Steve knew the curly so well, perhaps he had his number.</p>
<p>He took advantage of that moment alone to browse through his friend's address book, quickly turning the pages to the letter 'S' in search of the lad's number.</p>
<p>-<em>What</em> <em>the</em><em> hell are </em><em>you</em> <em>doing</em> <em>touching</em> <em>my</em> <em>stuff</em><em>, Joseph? </em></p>
<p>Joe was startled by the sudden voice, turning around to see his friend with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.</p>
<p>He cursed himself mentally for not checking if Clark was still at home before doing anything.</p>
<p>-<em>I... I </em><em>was</em> <em>just</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em> <em>bring</em> <em>you</em> <em>this</em><em>, </em><em>that's</em> <em>all</em><em> -</em>he lied with a nervous smile, giving him the object.</p>
<p>-<em>You</em> <em>were</em> <em>looking</em> <em>for</em> <em>Sav's</em> <em>number</em><em>, </em><em>weren't</em> <em>you</em><em>?</em> -Steve asked, relaxing his expression as he took his adress book.</p>
<p>-<em>No! </em></p>
<p>
  <em>-Joe </em>
</p>
<p>Elliott looked down in shamed, implying with his silence that he was.</p>
<p>Clark sighed, shaking his head. By now, in certain things like this, the blond was an open book to him.</p>
<p>-<em>And</em><em> it </em><em>was</em><em> so </em><em>difficult</em> <em>for</em> <em>you</em> <em>to</em> <em>ask</em><em> me?</em> -the youngest one said-<em> I </em><em>don't</em> <em>have</em> <em>his</em> <em>number</em><em>, </em><em>but</em><em> I do </em><em>have</em> <em>some</em> <em>information</em> <em>and</em><em> I can </em><em>help</em> <em>you</em><em> find </em><em>him</em><em>, if </em><em>you</em> <em>want</em><em>.</em></p>
<p>Joe didn't expect that. He expected Clark to be angry, not to offer his help.</p>
<p><em>-</em><em>Please</em> -Elliott almost begged.</p>
<p>-<em>God</em><em>, </em><em>you</em> <em>must</em><em> be </em><em>very</em> <em>desperate</em> <em>or</em> <em>very</em> <em>much</em> <em>in</em> <em>love</em> <em>to</em> <em>have</em> <em>said</em> <em>please</em> -Clark said surprised.</p>
<p>-<em>It's</em> <em>not</em> <em>that</em><em>!</em> -the taller one exclaimed, blushing at his friend's comment-<em> I </em><em>need</em> <em>him</em> <em>because</em> <em>my</em> <em>art</em> <em>needs</em> <em>him</em><em>! </em>-he said- <em>Come </em><em>with</em><em> me -</em>he got up and signaled Steve to follow him into his room- <em>This</em> <em>is</em> <em>the</em> <em>best</em> <em>thing</em> <em>I've</em> <em>ever</em><em> done </em><em>in</em> <em>my</em><em> fucking life </em><em>and</em> <em>it's</em> <em>all</em> <em>thanks</em> <em>to</em> <em>him</em><em>, he </em><em>gave</em><em> me </em><em>inspiration</em> -he said-<em> I </em><em>don't</em> <em>know</em> <em>why</em><em>, </em><em>but</em><em> I </em><em>can't</em> <em>get</em><em> it </em><em>out</em> <em>of</em> <em>my</em> <em>head</em> <em>and</em><em> I </em><em>don't</em> <em>want</em> <em>to</em><em>. I </em><em>need</em> <em>him</em><em>, Steve, I </em><em>really</em> <em>need</em> <em>him</em><em>. </em></p>
<p>-<em>Joe, mate, I </em><em>don't</em> <em>know</em> <em>how</em><em> it </em><em>works</em> <em>in</em> <em>your</em> <em>mind</em> <em>but</em> <em>in</em> <em>my</em><em> world </em><em>that's</em> <em>called</em> <em>love</em> -Steve said at the artist's confession.</p>
<p>Elliott tried to ignore that last comment, feeling his cheeks burn slightly. He shook his head, trying to push the idea away. From his experience in past relations, he was sure that love wasn't something he was compatible with.</p>
<p>-<em>Are </em><em>you</em> <em>going</em> <em>to</em> <em>help</em><em> me </em><em>or</em> <em>not</em><em>? </em></p>
<p>-<em>Of</em> <em>course</em><em>, mate, </em><em>I'll</em> <em>help</em> <em>you</em><em> find </em><em>your</em><em> numen</em> -Clark with a smile- <em>Oh, </em><em>and</em> <em>by</em> <em>the</em> <em>way</em><em>, </em><em>his</em> <em>name</em> <em>is</em><em> Rick </em><em>Savage</em><em>.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Open Your Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pristine white was undoubtedly the most striking feature of that place. Everything in the room gave the feeling of a completely neat, professional and sterilized environment. The lab coats wore by the people who worked there combined perfectly with that monochrome decoration, which was only broken by the different vessels containing brightly colored liquids distributed on the tables.</p><p>Nothing out of the ordinary for a chemical laboratory.</p><p>Two young men, clearly novices, were focused on mixing two of those liquids with some fear, as they were not completely clear what could happen if they did it, much less if they did it wrong. It was clear that they knew the theory but this was the first time they put it into practice.</p><p>-Be very careful with that, it can be dangerous -pointed out a third man with curly hair- And don't forget to put on your goggles, you could get hurted and we don't want that.</p><p>-Yes, Mr. Savage -one of the boys agreed, adjusting his goggles.</p><p>Sav smiled at that, going back to his work.</p><p>Rick Savage, at his 28 years, worked in one of the most important laboratories of England, more specifically he was in charge of the chemistry department.</p><p>Many people considered it a boring job, but he was passionate about it. It was something that had caught his attention since he was a child, to the point of leading him to make it his profession and, without a doubt, he was happy with his decision.</p><p>He turned his attention back to the two boys, checking that everything was in order.</p><p>Yes, he tended to be extremely protective of his colleagues and especially with the newest ones, but it was for a good cause, he knew the consequences that a failure could bring in a job like that and, both professionally and personally, he felt responsible for everything that might happen around him and he didn't want anyone to get hurt.</p><p>-Mr. Savage -one of the boys called out shyly- Could you help us with this?</p><p>-Of course -he answered with a warm smile.</p><hr/><p>After several hours of work, the long-awaited time to leave arrived.</p><p>He took off his lab coat, hanging it on the coat rack. The garnament was quickly replaced for a jacket.</p><p>He sighed heavily picking up his stuff. As much as he liked his work, sometimes it was exhausting and today he really wanted to get out of there.</p><p>-Bad day?</p><p>Sav moved his gaze to the right, meeting a young man, a bit younger than him, with grey eyes and long dark curls.</p><p>-No, but having to take care of the interns sometimes is a bit too stressful sometimes -Sav complained as he let down his previously tied hair, letting his perfect curls gently fall on his shoulders.</p><p>-Come on, they're not that big of a deal, they're just newbies -said the dark haired one, seeing his colleague's complains a bit exagerated.</p><p>-Of course they're not a big deal for you, Viv. In your laboratory the worst thing that can happen is the mice escaping. In mine things explode -Savage said.</p><p>Vivian Campbell was one of his best friends, if not the best, in and out of the lab. Although they both worked in the same building, they were dedicated to quite different specialties. Sav was a chemist, Viv was a biologist.</p><p>After a little conversation with him, Sav said goodbye to Campbell and got everything ready to leave the building. He barely crossed the exit door, when he saw a familiar figure standing at the bottom of the stairs.A smile crossed his face.</p><p>-Are you following me? -asked the curly with a tone of amusement as he reached the blond.</p><p>-Umm... Maybe -Joe replied.</p><p>-How did you find out where I work? Should I be scared? -Sav continued, still in the same tone.</p><p>-You don't have to, just let's say... I have my contacts -Elliott said.</p><p>-And do these contacts have names?</p><p>-Maybe -Joe continued with his ambiguous answers, at this point he was starting to like that mysterious facade he was creating- You ask a lot of questions, you know?</p><p>-And you are not answering any of them! -exclaimed Sav- Okay, now seriously, what are you doing here?</p><p>-I came to see you -the blond smiled- What? Did I do something wrong? Did I bother you by coming here? -Joe asked as he saw the change on the other man's expression.</p><p>-No, not at all, it just surprises me that someone like you wants to see someone like me -said the curly one quickly- You know, we are so different that...</p><p>-That what? Come on, just because you like science and I like art, it doesn't mean it's illegal for us to be friends -Elliott said- And also, you promised me a proper conversation when you had time.</p><p>Sav smiled.</p><p>-Okay, that's true -he said- Come on, I know of a better place we can go</p><hr/><p>Joe was completely absorbed in the beautiful scenery that surrounded him.</p><p>Savage had taken him to a small café by the river. A lovely place not far from Sav's workplace that he couldn't remember ever having been to.</p><p>Maybe Steve was right and he needed to get out of the house more often.</p><p>Apart from that, it was not only the location that seemed beautiful, the season and the time of day brought a lot to the scene.</p><p>The golden light of the sunset shone covering the entire landscape, decorated in the orange tones typical of autumn.</p><p>But the lighting not only embellished the landscape, it was also reflected in the curly man in front of him, highlighting his beautiful features. That was certainly the only thing that surpassed the beauty of the landscape.</p><p>The view was so idyllic that Elliott couldn't help taking a small notebook out of his jacket and starting to draw.</p><p>-Do you always carry a notebook with you? -asked Sav curiously when he realized what the blond was doing, subtly trying to see that he was drawing.</p><p>-Yep, you never know where or when an idea may come to you. You have to be prepared -Elliott explained without looking up from the paper.</p><p>There was a small silence, but not an uncomfortable one, not at all. Joe was concentrated on his notebook and Savage, by his side, was watching the blonde carefully as he draw.</p><p>-You are really attractive you, know? -Joe commented out of nowhere- Have you ever thought about being a model or something like that?</p><p>Sav shook his head.</p><p>-I'm not that pretty. I wouldn't be a good one -he said shyly. His cheeks had turned pink from Joe's flattery.</p><p>The blonde looked up, looking at him incredulously.</p><p>-You don't have mirrors in your house or what? Look at you, you are gorgeous! -exclaimed Elliott pointing his hands towards him- Believe me, I may not be a genius like you, but if there is something i know about is beautiful things and you are one.</p><p>-Stop saying those things! -said the curly one covering his face, which at this point was burning because of Elliott's compliments.</p><p>-I'm just telling you the truth -Joe said, putting the pencil aside and lifting the notebook to proudly observe his work before turning it over to show it to the curly- Just look, you're the perfect model!</p><p>Sav removed his hands from his face slowly, landing his gaze on the paper. He was surprised to see that all this time the blonde had been drawing him.</p><p>-That's the point of all this and the real reason why I've come here -Joe explained- I need you, I need your help.</p><p>-My help? For what? How can I help you? -asked Sav confused.</p><p>-As you could notice the other day, I'm not going through what you would call a good artistic moment, there is something missing in my works and I think I have finally found it -Joe explained- You. I need you, Sav, you are the only hope i have left to revive my art -he said- Please help me.</p><p>-But, why me? -asked the curly- I have no idea about art, how can I be your only hope?</p><p>-I don't know, but you have something that the rest don't have, I don't know what it is, but you have something -Joe shrugged- I don't choose where the inspiration comes from, it just comes and that's it, and, for some reason, you inspire me a lot- he explained- Please, Sav.</p><p>The curly one looked at him, doubting his answer for a moment, but finally, to the blonde's surprise, he nodded.</p><p>-I'll help you</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Heaven Is</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve pushed the glass doors open, entering that building hitherto unknown to him. If he wasn't mistaken and had correctly followed the instructions given to him on the phone, that was the gallery interested in Joe and he should be meeting with the owner in a few minutes.</p><p>He walked to the front desk, behind which was a dark-haired woman. The name tag on her shirt read L. Shellist.</p><p>-Hello sir, how can I help you? -she asked politelly when she noticed Steve's presence. From her voice, Clark quickly recognized her as the woman he had spoken to on the phone early that morning.</p><p>-I... wanted to talk to the director. I'm Stephen Clark, the manager of one of the artists he's interested in, Joe Elliott -Clark explained.</p><p>-Oh, yes, I remember, I've talked to you before -she said- Mr. Collen must be waiting for you, just wait a moment -she said picking up the phone.</p><p>Steve nodded slightly, waiting by the desk while the woman spoke on the phone.</p><p>His gaze wandered around the lobby, admiring the decoration of the place.</p><p>He was quite amazed by everything he had seen of the building so far. You could tell that gallery was much bigger and of a higher level than the one he came from. His amazement was such that he even wondered why a place like that would be interested in someone like his friend. He didn't doubt Elliott's talent at all, but he wasn't sure he'd fit in that place.</p><p>-Mr. Clark -his thought's were interrupted by the secretary's voice. Steve moved his gaze to the side, landing it on the woman- You can come in now, he's waiting for you.</p><p>-Oh, great, thank you.</p><p>The blond was led to the office by Mrs. Shellist, being left alone in front of the door once they arrived.</p><p>He took a deep breath, collecting all the ideas in his mind, and knocked on the door three times. He wait for an affirmative signal from the other side before opening it and walking inside the office, closing the door again behind him.</p><p>On the other side of the desk, a blond haired man was waiting for him. He looked shorter that him, although he was surely at least a couple of years older.</p><p>The name tag placed on the front of his table revealed his full name: Philip K. Collen.</p><p>-You are Elliott's manager, right? -the man asked when he saw Steve, who nodded.</p><p>-Stephen Clark -he introduced himself shaking Collen's hand and then took a seat in the chair in front of him.</p><p>-I suppose you are here to talk about the offer I have made -the older one continued.</p><p>-Yes, I am -Steve answered.</p><p>-And tell me. what do you think of the offer? If you've bothered to come here, I suppose it's because you're interested -Collen said.</p><p>-The truth, Mr. Collen...</p><p>-Please, don't be so formal and just call me Phil -he interrupted. He hated being called by his last name, it made him feel old.</p><p>Steve nodded slightly.</p><p>-The truth, Phil, is that the offer you have made us is a quite tempting one, especially considering the problems Joe has with the other gallery -explained Clark- But...</p><p>-But what?</p><p>-But I'm scared that the same thing could happen here -Steve sighed- Let's say Joe... Doesn't exactly like to follow orders, and that's usually a problem -he explained.</p><p>-Don't worry about that, I know very well that some artists' behaviour that can be a bit... eccentric</p><p>-Just a bit? -Clark questioned. Almost ten years living with Joe had taught him that the words 'a bit eccentric' were not nearly enough to describe him.</p><p>-Well, the thing is that I will take care of this myself and I promise I'll do everything in my power so he feels as comfortable as possible working with us -Phil said- It would be a real honor for us if you accepted our offer, we need someone like Joe in our gallery -he said placing a contract on the table for the blond to sign.</p><p>Clark looked at the paper, stopping to think for a moment whether he would accept or not. The truth is that everything sounded very good and if something was clear to him, it was that Joe hated the other gallery with all his heart. It doesn't matter how this new gallery was, he was probably going to prefer it over the older one.</p><p>He picked up a pen and signed at the bottom of the page before handing it back to Phil, who smiled at Steve's decision.</p><p>Maybe this was the change that his friend needed so badly.</p><hr/><p>Sav knocked on the door twice.</p><p>That day he had left work faster than ever, rushing to get his things and ignoring everyone who had approached him, including Campbell, who he knew that wouldn't let his strange behavior go unnoticed so easily and would question him about it later. But that didn't matter to him in that moment, he had promised Joe that he would help him and, just as he said, there he was, at the exact hour they agreed, in front of his door.</p><p>His foot moved restlessly against the ground and he bit his lower lip as he waited for the blond to open. The nerves he felt were obvious.</p><p>Why was he nervous? What was there that made him feel so restless? He didn't know. Maybe it was because it was all new to him, maybe it was because Joe had treated him as his last hope and he was afraid of not living up to his expectations. Or maybe it was both, he wasn't sure.</p><p>The curly shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He just had to go there and model for him, only that, nothing could go wrong and if it did, nothing bad would happen. He had to calm down and stop being so insecure, this was not like the laboratory, a mistake here wouldn't hurt anyone.</p><p>His attention was fixed back on the real world when he heard the door open.</p><p>Standing there was Joe. His blond hair was disheveled and, as always, his clothes were stained with paints of different colors. Unlike the younger's restless attitude, Elliott looked very calm. Although, more than calm, what he looked was rather drowsy, perhaps because he'd had just gotten up or perhaps because he'd have slept little that night.</p><p>Be that as it may, when he saw the curly standing on the other side of the door, a smile drew on his lips.</p><p>-Sav! -Joe exclaimed- I'm glad you decided to come</p><p>-Yes, sorry for being late -the curly apologized.</p><p>That apology wasn't really necessary, the blond didn't look annoyed and it was barely five minutes past the acorded hour, but punctuality was something very important for Sav.</p><p>-Relax, I know you are used to other things but here the schedules do not matter, that you have come is enough for me -said Elliott trying to reassure Sav- C'mon, don't stay there, come in -he said, stepping aside to let the curly in.</p><p>Once inside, Sav just followed the blond through the house. His gaze moved from side to side, curious about everything around him. The walls, more specifically the corridor's ones, were decorated with different paintings. Some had bright colors, others were darker, they had varied styles but a certain common essence that denoted that they were made by the same person.</p><p>Joe noticed his companion's interest in the paintings.</p><p>-What? You like them? -asked the blond refering to the paintings.</p><p>Sav brought his gaze to him and nodded.</p><p>-They are... Incredible -said the curly, showing real admiration in his voice- Did you paint them all?</p><p>-Yes -Elliott replied proudly- What you see here is a succession of my best works made throughout my life. This corridor is something like my trophy room -he explained- Unfortunately it has been a long time since I've made anything worth hanging here -he sighed a little more discouraged- But I have not brought you here to tell you about my problems, so come on, let's go to my study -he said, making a small gesture for Sav to follow him to the room at the end of that same corridor.</p><p>The room, which, as Elliott had mentioned before, was his study, was filled with canvases, some finished, some in progress, and some more still blank.</p><p>At the back of the room was an easel with a blank canvas, prepared for the occasion.</p><p>Joe walked over to it, finishing to set everything up. The curly, on the other side, stayed standing on one side of the room, with a shy and indecisive gaze fixed on the floor.</p><p>-You know you don't have to do this if you don't want to, right? -said the blond when he noticed his nervousness.</p><p>Sav looked at him, frowning slightly.</p><p>-Who told you I don't to want to do it?</p><p>-Pure intuition -Joe said, placing the material down- You look nervous</p><p>-It's not like I do this every day -the curly commented with a nod of obviousness.</p><p>-We can always postpone it if you don't feel completely comfortable -Elliott suggested. Sav shook his head- Ready then? -he asks. This time the younger one nodded.</p><p>He walked into the scene previously set by Joe, positioning himself in front him, waiting for further instructions.</p><p>-Just stand there and try to get comfortable, this can take a long time -said the blond turning to take a couple more instruments he needed.</p><p>-Is this okay? -Sav asked.</p><p>Elliott turned around, gazing down at the curly.</p><p>-Umm... Yes, but get a little more to the right -the blond signaled, trying to find the perfect shot and lighting.</p><p>-Like this?</p><p>-Almost... Maybe a little more...</p><p>He had a slight idea of how he wanted everything to look, but it was too vague to give more concrete indications than that.</p><p>Joe chose to approach the other man, slightly modifying his position. Sav felt his nerves grow along with the rhythm of his heart when he felt the blond's hands walk over his arms.</p><p>As a last touch-up, he turned the curly's face slightly to the side where he was, causing them to face each other with just a few inches apart.</p><p>-Yes, like this. Perfect -said Joe almost over his lips, with a small smile drawn on his face.</p><p>As fast as he approached, the blond walked away, but that didn't prevent Sav's cheeks from turning bright pink because of the fleeting closeness of their bodies.</p><p>Joe went back behind the canvas. He couldn't help biting his lower lip at the sight before his eyes. It was just what he was looking for. He looked absolutely perfect.</p><p>-Everything's fine? -Savage asked.</p><p>That's when Joe realized that he had spent too long staring at him.</p><p>-Yes, yes, everything... Everything's perfect. Just try not to move -Elliott said moving his gaze to the canvas.</p><p>Joe picked up a brush and began to draw.</p><p>The strokes flowed almost automatically through the canvas, trying to copy with the greatest accuracy the beautiful features of theman in front of him. From his brown curls to his pink lips, he wanted to reflect everything in as much detail as possible.</p><p>He knew that painting was going to look really good. It wasn't difficult to create a masterpiece when your model is already a work of art himself.</p><p>When he felt that it was finished, he took a couple of steps back, giving it one last look, unable to suppress a smile when he saw that the result was just as he wanted it.</p><p>-Ready -the blond announced, putting the brush aside- Now... you can move.</p><p>Sav relaxed his posture, moving closer to where Elliott was, feeling his joints slightly sore when he moved from having kept them in the same position for so long.</p><p>-Wow -exclaimed the curly, surprised when he saw the painting- You are incredible, Joe.</p><p>The blond smiled proudly.</p><p>-The artist just portrays what he sees -Elliott said- A good portrait can only be made with the help of a good model. So the correct statement would be that we are incredible -he corrected putting special emphasis on 'we are' and giving the curly a smile- We are a great team.</p><p>-A team? -Sav questioned.</p><p>-Well, yeah, as long as you'd like to keep helping this artist on his crazy things -Joe said.</p><p>Sav smiled, nodding.</p><p>-You know? I had my doubts at first -Savage confessed- But now, I'm completely sure that something incredible could come from here. </p>
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